


Metal Mouth

by werewolfsaz



Series: Trials of a Teenage Werewolf [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, Teen Romance, geek!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolfsaz/pseuds/werewolfsaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe being the new kid wouldn't be so bad after all</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metal Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, Sterek, my lovely boys, how I've missed you.  
> Ok, quick note: Derek and Stiles are the same age (16) and Scott is Stiles' step brother  
> Comments are loved, adored and vastly appreciated. So please, leave some if you like :)  
> Enjoy

Derek had hated his new school from the moment he'd set foot in it several weeks before. Not only because it stank of teenage hormones (which was enough to turn any werewolf's stomach) but also because...Well, the kids were mean. It wasn't his fault he was a geek. That he wore glasses that made his green eyes look enormous and braces that made him look like a James Bond bad guy. And he was built like a bean pole, just to add insult to injury. It wasn't his fault his thick black hair stood up in crazy spikes that refused to behave. Blame his parents or the environment or something. The only thing that got Derek through each day was Stiles.

The two had become firm friends on Derek's first day. The teacher had forced Derek to stand in front of the class and tell them about himself. He remembered stuttering his name, possibly where he'd moved from but after that the ability to speak vanished. He stood in front of a room of sniggering teens, blushing violently, wishing he was dead.  
"Oh, c'mon, give the guy a break," a voice piped up from the back of the room.

The teacher turned an icy glare to the speaker as Derek quickly flicked his eyes up, spotting his defender easily. The teen had spiky, dark brown hair, huge chocolate brown eyes and a easy going smile on his handsome face.  
"Very well, Mister Stilinski, as you seem to be Mister Hale's advocate, you can have the pleasure of showing him round. Please take a seat next to your knight in shining armor."

Derek blushed again as the class sniggered at his tripping and stumbling to the empty desk next to the smiling boy. He folded up in the seat, desperately wishing his parents hadn't insisted on this damn move.  
"Hey, I'm Stiles," the boy introduced himself. "Nice to meet you."  
"Hello," Derek replied, his blush screaming back into life when he noticed how gorgeous Stiles was. This was going to be one Hell of a long day.

But watching Stiles that day, Derek realized he was more than just a pretty face. While not one of the popular kids, Stiles could talk to them without fear of ridicule. He could also hang out with the unpopular kids (like Derek) with charming ease. Everybody liked Stiles. He was bouncy, unable to sit still for a minute, always cracking jokes or doing something silly. But he was smart too, genius smart though he never flaunted it.

From that very first day, Derek knew Stiles would always be more than just a friend to him. Even if he never said anything (which was exactly his plan) he would always think of Stiles as so much more than his first friend at beacon Hills High.

***

"Earth to Planet Hale! Do you read me? Over!"  
Derek blinked, snapping back to himself to find Stiles leaning against his car with his usual smile on his face. He was kicking one tire idly, watching the flow of students drifting into school.  
"I'll make you buy me a new one if you keep on," Derek huffed, swinging out of the car slowly. Man, he hurt! Stiles instantly turned to him, eyes going huge with worry.  
"What the Hell happened?" he demanded.

"Don't worry about it," Derek shrugged, one hand going up to touch the impressive array of abrasions and bruises on his face.  
"Are you kidding me?" Stiles snapped angrily. "Is this why you blew me off this weekend? Because you didn't want me to know you got beaten up?"  
"Something like that, yeah," Derek shrugged, refusing to look Stiles in the eye. He knew that cancelling their usual weekend plans had upset Stiles but he had good reason. Besides, maybe a little distance was a good thing. They spent almost every moment together. Derek was beginning to find it hard to hide his ever growing feelings for the other boy.

The last two months had been hellish for the black haired teen. His main tormentor was the captain of the lacrosse team, Jackson Whittemore. For some reason he had taken an instant, and passionate, dislike to Derek. He tortured him in every possible way, whether it was embarrassing him by tripping him in the lunch room or getting a group of his lackeys to beat Derek black and blue as he walked home after violin practice.

The warm touch of Stiles' finger on his split lip jolted Derek back to the present. Shaking his head, the brown eyed boy lent in closer to examine all the wounds.  
"Shit, they really worked you over. I bet your sister is out for blood now."  
"She is but I didn't tell her who did it. She suspects but I won't tell her for sure."  
"Why not? It would serve Jackson right to get his ass handed to him by Laura."

Shortly after starting at Beacon Hills High, Laura Hale had become undisputed Queen of the entire school. Boys worshiped her for her beauty and charm. Girls loved her for her friendliness and good advice. She only had one thing, one tiny detail, that turned her into a snarling bitch. No one, absolutely no one, was allowed to mess with her little brother. But Jackson either didn't know or didn't care. 

"I don't need my sister to protect me," Derek snapped, instantly regretting his harsh tone. Stiles was only trying to help, to be the good friend he was. Gently pushing his hand away from his face, Derek strode into the school.  
"I'm surprised Scott didn't tell you all about it on Saturday when Laura came over for dinner," he said over his shoulder, smiling by way of apology. Laura had started dating Stiles' step brother shortly after starting school. They were the golden couple, King and Queen of the school.  
"Laura probably told him not to mention it if you didn't want me to know," Stiles pouted, trailing after Derek. 

"Yeah, she's not always a pain in the ass," Derek grinned. The grin faded, however, when Derek saw his chief torturer stood in the hall, surrounded by his friends.  
"Well, look who it is," Jackson smirked. "Metal mouth himself."  
Derek's stomach dropped and turned to ice when the little gang began to move towards him, cackling like hyenas at their leader's tenuous wit. He remembered their sharp, heavy fists pounding him, splitting his skin, bruising it.

"Fuck off, Jackson," Stiles spat, moving up next to his friend, glaring at the approaching team. He knew they were about to get badly beaten but he wouldn't leave Derek. The black haired teen meant too much to him for that. At that moment one of the teachers appeared causing the team to back off.  
"Ignore them, Stiles," Derek hissed, stalking away from the group, head down, shoulders hunched.

Turning a vicious glare on the lacrosse team, Stiles hurried after his friend. Stiles watched him walking away and realized that Derek meant so much more to him than just a friend. How could they not see the things Stiles saw? Derek was sweet, kind, gentle. He was smart and had a surprisingly wicked sense of humor. But most of all he was easy to be around.  
When they hung out together, they would watch movies, play video games, read, talk, do homework... Sometimes they did nothing, just sat in comfortable silence, perfectly content to just be together.

In those moments, Stiles would look at his friend and see just how beautiful he was. Yes, he wore glasses but they simply magnified the beauty of his green eyes. His braces made him self conscious but when he did smile, his full lips curved up invitingly. His cheekbones were sharp and clearly defined, his skin darkly tanned. His hair was a mess of wild spikes that Stiles was just itching to run his fingers through. Derek was built lean but anyone with eyes could see that he was on the verge of filling out, packing on some decent muscle. What baffled Stiles is why no one else saw any of this.

Clarity hit him like a thunder bolt. He was moving before he even realized, swiftly catching up with Derek and dragging him through the nearest door (into a supply closet, luckily).  
"Stiles! What the...?"  
Before he could finish his protest, Stiles' hands were cupping his face and their lips met in the sweetest, most chaste of kisses.

Derek was convinced he was dead. They'd beaten him to death and now he was in Heaven, kissing Stiles. That idea was swiftly dispelled when Stiles drew back. If this was truly Heaven they would never stop kissing.  
"I'm sorry," Stiles murmured, barely an inch between them. "I just... I couldn't stand not doing that for a second longer. I hope you don't mind. Oh God, have I screwed things up between us? I'm so sorry..."  
"Stiles," Derek interrupted, smiling so hard his jaw hurt and his split lip stung. "You haven't screwed anything up."

Stiles grinned, slipping his hands down Derek's throat, winding his arms around his neck. They stared at each other for a long time, hours it felt like, though it was probably only minutes. In each others eyes they saw things that words could never clearly express. Then, screwing up all his courage, Derk closed the gap between them, kissing Stiles softly, his arms sliding around the boy's slender waist.

Stiles gave into the urge to touch and buried his fingers in the soft, thick strands of ebony hair. Derek made a noise, deep in his throat, a sort of rumbling purr that made Stiles shiver deliciously.  
"What else can I do to get you to make that noise?" he asked, lips brushing Derek's softly.  
"You'll have to find out," the green eyed teen grinned back, blushing at the thought. Then he pulled Stiles closer, kissing him again. 

Soon, they would have to have a serious discussion. Something along the lines of 'Hey, Stiles, now that we're dating I think I should tell you that I'm a werewolf'. But that could wait for a little while. Kissing was much, much nicer.

Maybe being the new kid wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
